


Starlight, Starlight

by KivaEmber



Series: Wine Cellar [42]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Christmas Smut, Domestic Bliss, Dorks in Love, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Male Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Miqo'te Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Romantic Fluff, Self-Indulgent, Starlight Celebration (Final Fantasy XIV), disgustingly sweet and domestic and i don't care, domestic fluff is MY THING
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2019-09-26 11:03:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17140598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KivaEmber/pseuds/KivaEmber
Summary: Aza finally learns what the Starlight Celebration is, and predictably jumps into it with full gutso. Aymeric... forgets about it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> okay originally was a tiny oneshot in Snapshot Tales but after adding more parts to it, hell, it's its own thing now so here we go

The Jewelled Crozier had transformed overnight.

The normally understated, grey and snowy street was bright with colour and out of place cheer, piles of papered and ribboned boxes littering the space between shop stalls, snowmen rolled neatly into place with top hats and thick, healthy carrots for noses, and gold and silver tape strewn everywhere above their heads. There was even a tinny, upbeat song on the edge of his hearing, though he couldn’t see a band or orchestrion in sight.

“What… is this…?” he muttered under his breath, trying not to look utterly bewildered as he took the last few steps onto the Jewelled Crozier proper. It was still early morning, just after dawn, where  _normally_  the only signs of life were shops opening up for the day and the odd, unfortunate Temple Knight dragging themselves through the last leg of night patrols. Today, however…

It was  _busy_. Busy with a certain hustle and bustle that Aza was slowly beginning to recognise as  _festive_. Ah. This must be another weird Eorzean holiday. Odd. Normally one of the Scions or Aymeric would warn him off, but then again, they had been busy lately with the mess in Doma and Ala Mhigo, so it wouldn’t surprise him if it slipped their mind.

Aza idly scratched under his jaw as he skirted the edges of the early morning crowd, making his way to his usual haunt: Denise’s Stall.

She was an old Temple Knight turned chef once the Dragonsong War had ended – the final battle on the Steps of Faith had resulted in the loss of a leg, ending her career as a knight – and Aza had discovered her by complete chance when roaming Ishgard before dawn was even touching the horizon. Knowing how hard and demoralising the night patrol can be, Denise was the  _only_  food stall he knew that worked through the night and up until after noon, serving simple yet hardy foods, caffeinated drinks and tasty treats at prices aimed mostly towards hungry, grumpy knights – and Aza, apparently.  

Even her stall had transformed – she had a tiny snowman sitting on the corner of it with her donations pot sitting next to it, and it was bedecked in more ribbon than that noblewoman’s monstrosity of a dress from that Saint’s Wake party a few months back. The clash of gold, neon green, red and blue almost hurt his eyes.

Behind the eyesore of a store was Denise. She was stocky for an Elezen, with a darker complexion than most Ishgardians and biceps that would make Bluebird drool. Her face was also made for broad grins, laughlines already setting into the corners of her eyes. It suited her. It was nice to see someone so openly happy in a place as reserved and cool as Ishgard.

“Well, well, if it ain’t my favourite customer!” Denise greeted, leaning forwards on her gloves hands, her bright grin bearing pearly white teeth, “Come to admire the decorations?”

“Not really. I came to get breakfast,” Aza said, coming to a comfortable halt before the tall. Without thinking, he dropped his usual pouch of gil into the donations pot, “I’ve heard around the barracks that you’ve started making something called ‘pineapple fritters’?”

“Oh, yeah, courtesy of our new friends in the Ruby Sea,” Denise said, immediately turning to her stove to fulfil the order. Unlike most stores along the Jewelled Crozier, her stall was entirely outside, protected by a thick tarp that Aza was beginning to suspect to be as indestructible as pieces of Dalamud with how much it has weathered. Denise never had trouble with people trying to steal things from her, though. From what he heard she had a lot of good mates in the Brume, as well as the Temple Knights.

“So…” Aza began when the noise, and smell, of cooking filled the sharply cold air, “These decorations… I’m guessing another holiday is up?”

Denise paused for a fraction of a second, before she resumed her cooking with a small shake of her head, “I keep forgetting… yeah, it’s Starlight Celebration. It’s meant to celebrate selflessness and generosity and all that shite. Encourage people to be charitable. That sort of thing.”

“Instead of being charitable all year long?” Aza asked dryly.

Denise just shrugged, “You know some folk.”

Aza turned his attention back to his surroundings with fresh understanding, though he wasn’t sure what all the tape and snowmen and the weird, red costumes some of the crowd were wearing had to do with generosity and charity. The boxes… he supposed they were gifts? Meant to represent gifts, in any case…

“Do you have to do special stuff for it?” he asked.

“Well…” Denise’s tone lilted teasingly, “It’s tradition to give out presents.”

“Uh?”

“Normally there’s an event where the Smilebringers will dole out presents to the children,” Denise continued, “Maybe have some singing – the Ishgardian Choir does some amazing songs in the Saint Reymamaud’s Cathedral, if you’re interested in that. Then people go buy some foods, get drunk, be merry, then go home and give presents to some loved ones.”

Aza blinked slowly as he processed that, “Presents to… loved ones?”

“Aye,” Denise turned around, closing the lid on the box of pineapple fritters she just finished cooking up, “I suppose that’d be the Lord Commander for you, mm?”

“And that’s… the norm?”

“Yup,” Denise popped the ‘p’, holding out the box, “That’s 25g.”

Aza, who still couldn’t tell a 25g coin from a 100g coin, just handed her a fistful of silver coins from his pocket, “Is it a thematic present?”

“It can be whatever you want it to be, I guess,” Denise said distractedly, counting out the coins and heaving a sigh, “You’ve given me way too much.”

“Keep the change,” Aza said, “It’s fine. Think of it as me, uh, getting into the spirit of Stars Celebration or whatever.”

“Starlight,” Denise huffed, her mouth twisting a little, “Do you even know how much you’ve given me?”

“Enough to show my appreciation for your good work,” Aza said with mock-cheer, holding up his lovely smelling box of pineapple fritters and turning away, “I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah, yeah. Have fun shopping for the Lord Commander’s present!”

Aza waved distractedly over his shoulder, then teased the box lid open, breathing in the sweet smell of sugared batter. His stomach gurgled, and he gingerly picked up one piping hot fritter between his gloved fingers, ambling his lazy way out of the Jewelled Crozier and up the steps towards the Congregation of the Knights Most Heavenly.

Presents… if this was a normal celebration that came annually, then no doubt Aymeric would’ve gotten him something. Did ‘loved ones’ extend to family too? Friends? Or was it strictly a romantic partner thing, like Valentione’s Day? Damn, he should’ve quizzed Denise some more but… well, never mind.

Odd, that Aymeric never mentioned this upcoming holiday, though. Then again, he’d been  _awfully_  busy, so much so that he didn’t even come home last night! No doubt Aza would find him asleep at his desk again. He was lucky Aza was thoughtful enough to bring breakfast to him – probably grab some water too, to flush out all the caffeine he’d no doubt replaced all his blood with.

Aza took a bite out of his fritter, wincing when it was a bit  _too_  hot, and distracted himself from the slight burn on his tongue counting out how many fritters to set aside for his partner. As usual Denise kindly did a double order of eight fritters – and she tried to charge him for four! Honestly…

Smiling, Aza closed the lid to keep the warmth in, gingerly picking his way through the fritter already in hand, and began to plan.


	2. Chapter 2

Aymeric woke up to breakfast in bed and Aza’s sunny smile.

“Mornin’, handsome. I’ve got you some breakfast,” his partner chirped, waiting for Aymeric to groggily sit up before carefully placing the tray on his lap. Aza, it seemed, had been busy, for as well as brewing Aymeric’s usual pot of birch syrup tea, he also made up a plate of Royal Eggs with a Sohm Al tart for a dessert, carefully and lovingly arranged in a way that would make the strictest of High House chefs weep in admiration.

“You’ve included dessert,” Aymeric mumbled, a bit stupidly, rubbing the sleep out of his eye as his brain tried to understand what the occasion was. It was a day off for him, but normally Aza celebrated those by cobbling together simple pancakes or an apple tart, and then spending the morning abusing the whipped cream. For him to put forth _this much effort_ meant… today was a _special day_.

“Well, it’s Starlight today,” Aza said, looking amused at his grogginess, “Or so I’ve been told, anyways. There’s a, uh, Ishgardian choir show later, apparently? I wasn’t sure if you’d be interested in going, but-”

 _Ah,_ Aymeric thought blankly as Aza obliviously chattered on, _that’s right. It_ is _Starlight._

That’s why he had this day off in the first place. Many of his fellow politicians had been getting antsy and irritable at working through the holidays, and so the Houses had set aside the trading agreements they had been quibbling over to be looked at after the remaining festive period was over. Aymeric had… distantly known that the actual day of Starlight was near, but honestly, he was so used to ignoring it that it _entirely slipped his mind_ that Aza, being new to Eorzean customs, would leap into it with full gusto, like he did with Valentione’s or All Saint’s Wake.

“-or if you want, we can just have a full-on lazy day,” Aza finished, looking pleased about the various plans he concocted for the day, “Twelve knows you need some more sleep. When was the last time you had more than four hours a night?”

“Mm, last night…” Aymeric admitted. The past week he’d mostly slept in his office, trying to squeeze in as much work as he could before the Houses adjourned for the rest of the month, which… probably contributed to his absent-mindedness now, thinking on it, “It seems you put a lot of thought into today.”

“Well, we’ve both been busy lately,” Aza said, moving to sit down on the bed next to him. He then boldly stole the chocolate covered chestnut off the top of the Sohm Al tart and popped it into his mouth, which Aymeric graciously ignored, “So, I thought I’d make sure we could both enjoy today.”

Aymeric couldn’t help but smile a little at that, even as he made quick, private plans to rustle up a Starlight present from _somewhere_ , “You said there’s a choir show today?”

“Yeah, at the cathedral. I’ve heard it’s really good, and that there’s free food!” Aza looked positively thrilled at that, “But, we’ve got a few hours until then.”

“So, no rush.”

“None, so take your time,” Aza leaned against his side, half-curled up, “Eat your food, and _I’ll_ nap…”

“You don’t want some?”

“I’ve already eaten, and now I’m sleepy…” Aza murmured, pressing his cheek against his shoulder and closing his eyes. He must’ve gotten up early to fix his breakfast as well as have time to eat beforehand, Aymeric thought fondly, so he let him doze there, carefully making sure not to move _too much_ , and dug into his lovingly made, homecooked breakfast in bed.

* * *

Aymeric must be the blindest fool in all of Ishgard, because when he wandered downstairs a little later to put the dirty dishes away, Aza still snoozing away in bed, he found himself pausing at the sight of his living room decorated for Starlight. There was a large Starlight tree, glittering with decorations, as well tinsel and ribbon and other small, Starlight figurines dominating his mantlepiece.

His steward, Sebastien, had been busy, it seemed.

“How tired I must’ve been to miss this…” he muttered to himself, continuing to the kitchens to deposit the breakfast tray and its dirty dishes into the sink. Unlike most noble families, his house staff numbered less than five and were not accommodated on the estate. Well, ‘estate’. House Borel was extremely tiny, compared to the sprawling mansions of the High Houses, but it never bothered Aymeric in the slightest. The few staff he had were loyal and hardworking, and it helped encourage a bit of self-sufficiency, as Aymeric had to know how to do _some_ cooking and cleaning if any of his staff were ill or unable to attend to tasks due to circumstances.

So, it was for that reason that he started cleaning up the dishes himself. Being Starlight, none of his staff would be in that day or the next, excepting maybe Sebastien, and it was best not to let this keep. He found some measure of enjoyment in the menial task, anyways, and he slowly began to relax with each plate cleaned.

He’ll need to find a gift for Aza. He knew, guiltily, that his partner would accept anything from him, but Aymeric didn’t want to throw the first thing he saw at him. No, he needed to put some thought into it, find out how to slip away long enough to purchase or _find it_ , before the day was out…

He wiped his hands dry on the dishtowel once he was done, watching the dirty water drain with a small frown. He might have to call Sebastien in and ask for his assistance. Not something he wanted to do – calling the man away from his family to make up for his own absentmindedness…

As if summoned by his thoughts, Aymeric heard the front door creak open, followed by the shuffling footsteps he immediately recognised as Sebastien’s.

So early?

Aymeric hurried out of the kitchens and into the hallway, seeing his steward shake off snow from his coat. Judging by the melting white littering the entranceway, it was snowing quite heavily outside, and Aymeric briefly reconsidered the plans to see the Ishgardian Choir later that day. It would be a _nightmare_ trying to get up to the cathedral in this… but, Aza had looked genuinely interested in the show…

“Sebastien,” Aymeric sighed, “You needn’t come in today.”

“I had one errand to run for you, milord,” Sebastien replied, notably making no move to remove his coat or boots. In his hands there was a thickly wrapped parcel in oiled, brown paper, to repel the snow so it didn’t soak through, “Master Lynel’s present.”

Aymeric blinked, then sagged in relief, “ _Sebastien_ , you must be an angel sent by Halone herself.”

Sebastien just smiled, the gesture pulling at his heavy laugh lines, “I just know you, milord.”

The parcel exchanged hands, and Aymeric curiously shook it as gently as he could. It was a box, hollow, and _something_ rustled. It was light too, lighter than the box implied, “What is it?”

“A gift I think Master Lynel would greatly appreciate, milord,” Sebastien said with just a hint of mischief.

Aymeric sighed, but accepted it was going to be as much as a surprise to him as it was to Aza when unwrapped, and tucked the box under his arm, “Thank you, Sebastien. I hope you enjoy the remainder of Starlight with your family.”

“And you too, milord.”

As quickly as he came, Sebastien slipped back out, and Aymeric decided he genuinely did not deserve that man, sometimes. When Aymeric had stepped into his inheritance as the Head of House Borel, Sebastien had been there from the start, helping him take on the duties of a noble and supporting his attempts to become Lord Commander, despite all those unsavoury rumours of his heritage and the sneering disdain from his ‘fellow nobles’. He also didn’t so much as blink when Aymeric told him he had taken a foreign Miqo’te as a companion, and his lack of judgement was something Aymeric was grateful for every day.

A raise. Definitely. That man was owed a raise.

Setting that aside to tackle after the holidays, Aymeric considered the package in his hands before moving to the living room. He’ll give it to Aza later tonight, but for now it can stay under the tree.

Hopefully, it’ll be something he’ll like.

* * *

Aza stirred when he felt the bed move and squeak, and he hummed very quietly when a familiar hand started scratching just behind his ears. Ah, that felt _nice_.

“S’time t’get up?” he mumbled into his pillow, still feeling tired. He’d gotten up very early that morning to get breakfast done, and while he didn’t regret it, he did feel a little worn out. That’s what he got for going to bed late and getting up early, he supposed.

“Not yet,” Aymeric said, his voice a low, husky purr. Aza basked in it, “We have an hour, at least.”

“Mm…” Aza turned his head slightly, enough to nuzzle into Aymeric’s palm, “You wanna do something?”

“Something?” There was a hint of laughter to Aymeric’s voice, teasing, “Like…?”

“Kissing,” Aza blinked his eyes open to see Aymeric leaning over him, his partner’s hand gently cupping his cheek with his thumb lightly pressed against his bottom lip, “Or fucking.”

Aymeric let out a low chuckle at that bit of straightforwardness, and Aza found himself slowly rolling onto his back as Aymeric leaned over him, his partner’s mouth curved into that attractive, flirty smile that _always_ had Aza’s pulse fluttering. Aymeric’s thumb was still lightly, gently pressed against his bottom lip, rubbing, and making Aza part his lips expectantly.

“ _Fucking_ …” Aymeric repeated slowly, drawing the word out in the most _unfairly obscene_ murmur ever. Aza felt himself shiver right down to the tip of his tail, a flush of heat sweeping through his belly, “Mm, that sounds tempting.”

“But…?” Aza breathed.

“Let’s leave that for tonight,” Aymeric finished, “Otherwise we’ll never leave bed. You _do_ want to go to the Choir show, mm?”

He did, but he also desperately wanted sex now. Aza found himself starting to pout, “Well, yeah, but…”

“Tonight,” Aymeric promised him, cutting him off with a gentle kiss on the very corner of his mouth, “Something to look forward to, love.”

Aza hummed agreeably. It would work out better, he supposed. They could take all the time they wanted tonight, whereas rushing through a quickie tended to have mixed results half the time.

“Let’s have a quick bath and get changed,” Aymeric said, moving away and leaving Aza feeling briefly cold from the absence of his warmth, “It’s very snowy and cold outside, so you should bundle up.”

Which meant Aza would have to wear something thicker and warmer than his usual armour. He wondered if he could get away with the fire crystals stuffed in his underclothes trick, but remembered that crystals were banned from places of worship nowadays for… obvious reasons, “Alpine coat, then?”

Aymeric let out a suspicious sounding cough, but said, “Ah, yes, the alpine coat. That’ll do.”

Aza rolled his eyes, knowing what Aymeric was trying not to snigger about. Apparently, he looked _adorable_ , yet dumb, in those big, fluffy coats. Bluebird said he looked like a giant fat cat, but it was warm as hell and bulky enough that he could keep his breastplate on and smuggle a longsword in with no one else being the wiser.

“Stop sniggering and go fill up that bath,” Aza grumped playfully.

“Sorry, sorry,” Aymeric said insincerely, but he did get up and go to do as he was asked.

Aza resettled on the bed, sprawling his limbs out and letting out a low, contented noise. This was nice, he decided. If the next year went fine, he was definitely going to plan something more extravagant for the next Starlight Celebration. A trip to Costa de Sol, maybe? He promised Aymeric that ages ago, but they never had enough time to go there.

Or maybe Bronze Lake. Those hotsprings were to _die for_ , and Aymeric needed a nice soak and a massage just as badly as Aza did. Hm, or why not both? Bronze Lake first, then to Costa de Sol, _oh_ , and maybe a day at Wineport too, since Aymeric was such a connoisseur of wine, he’d love it…

Aza entertained himself with such hopeful thoughts, deciding not to dwell on the fact that next year, things might be drastically and horribly different, depending on how the war with Garlemald ended, or the conflict with the Ascians, or the dwindling aether on Hydaelyn as a whole… they had a lot of troubles and tribulations to overcome, and Aza, for once, was focusing more on what he had to gain, rather than lose, by the end of them.

That must be the magic of Starlight, he mused. It made you feel so _hopeful_.

Well, however next year panned out, Aza’ll keep these thoughts to help him through. With that decided, he sat up and slipped off the bed. It was time to celebrate Starlight _properly_ , with the man he loved. Then tomorrow it was friends and family focused…

So, with a spring in his step, he went to join Aymeric, his heart and mind free from worry and filled with simple happiness instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i double checked to see if Aymeric's steward was ever named in ffxiv canon, but nope, he only ever had the title of Head Steward so I made one up for him :U 
> 
> i hope y'all enjoying it so far! pls tell me what you think, and don't forget to kudos if you liked!


	3. Chapter 3

“You look like a phurble.”

“You’re just jealous that I’m _warm_ and _toasty_.”

Aymeric huffed fondly, eyeing up the fluffy coat that had all but consumed Aza. It was a bulky thing, made from polar bear hide, and reached past Aza’s knees. Aymeric knew his partner liked it because he could smuggle in a full suit of armour and a longsword underneath it, if he wished, and it _did_ make him look adorable… in a silly kind of way.

The coat was, of course, topped off with a big furry hat that had Aza’s ears poking through the sides, a fuzzy scarf that was _entirely_ unnecessary and merely hid the lower half of Aza’s face (which was hidden _anyways_ by the aforementioned giant coat), with a thick pair of dark leather boots (steel toe-capped, of course) and furred mittens finishing the entire thing off. It made him look like a giant furball that had sprouted legs at some point.

“Yes,” Aymeric said very slowly, “I’m very jealous.”

But Aza seemed happy enough and that was all that mattered. So, after Aymeric finished buttoning up his more socially acceptable alpine coat, they stepped outside into heavy snow.

Some poor squad of knights delegated to snow shovelling duty (a punishment that could make even the laziest knight shudder in horror), had kindly cleared and gritted a path through the main street outside. Snow piled high against the grey stone walls that cordoned off the individual estates, and the wind was blustery enough that every few seconds brought with it a faceful of bitingly cold white.

Hmmm… perhaps Aza was onto something with his phurble impression.

“I thought Starlight was meant to have _nice_ snow,” Aza grumbled, his voice muffled into his scarf. All that could be seen between his hat and scarf were his eyes squinted half-shut, “This isn’t nice. This is _awful_.”

“This is Ishgard,” Aymeric said a mite dryly, “We’re lucky this isn’t a blizzard, actually.”

Aza elbowed him gently in the ribs, “Don’t jinx it.”

Despite tempting fate, however, the weather didn’t worsen as they ascended to the cathedral. Ishgard was out in full force around this time, the streets thick with happy, light-hearted people anticipating the first Starlight to be conducted during peacetime.

And that… _that_ was something amazing, wasn’t it? There were still guard shifts, of course, and patrols just in case the lingering remnants of the Horde attempted an opportunistic attack, but there was no longer the crushing shadow of Nidhogg looming over them. Aymeric didn’t realise how that Wyrm had suffocated them until he saw Ishgard today, how the citizens’ happiness wasn’t tempered by fearful wariness or a foreboding gloom that tomorrow was going back to the endless slog that was the Dragonsong War.

“What’re you smirking about?” Aza asked suspiciously, breaking him out of his wonderment, “You look smug about something.”

“Not smug,” Aymeric corrected, “Just… pleased at how today’s celebrations are going.”

“We haven’t even much of it yet, though,” Aza said, shifting closer to his side as the crowd grew thicker. Aymeric felt his partner hook his arm around his, linking elbows, but Aza didn’t feel nervous or anxious despite the crowd. He was doing rather well, considering, “But they should be good, considering everyone and their mother’s out here today. Where the hell did all these people come from?”

“From the Brume, most like,” Aymeric hummed, scanning the crowd. He could see a few familiar faces with their families, politicians from the House of Lords and the Commons, as well as some of Hilda’s City Watch prowling the outskirts, probably to collar any ambitious pickpockets, “It’s one of the rare days where anyone, regardless of social standing, are allowed to stand as one during mass.”

“Hmmm,” was Aza’s noncommittal response, the usual whenever religion or Ishgard’s class-system was brought up, “Wait, _mass_?”

Uh oh. Aymeric forgot…

“Yes. The Ishgardian Choir is part of the annual Starlight mass,” he explained, feeling a little exasperated when Aza gave him a scandalised look, “Did no one tell you?”

“No,” Aza muttered, his ears tilting back a fraction, “I guess they must’ve assumed I’d know. I mean, it makes sense. You Ishgardians always have mass during holidays.”

“It’s no longer than an hour at most. I’m sure you can endure,” Aymeric said, “Just think of the free food at the end.”

Aza seemed mollified about that – no matter what one said about the Halonic church, it was widely agreed that the priests’ baking skills were utterly unmatched – and he tugged his hat off once they approached the cathedral’s threshold, stuffing it into Aymeric’s coat pocket, “Yeah. I hope they make those marshmallow cakes again. Those were lovely.”

“They normally do,” Aymeric said, also knowing that said marshmallow cakes tended to be gone within minutes of being unveiled. They were legendary and could reduce even the most dignified noble into rudely shoving and elbowing their way to the buffet table just to get their hands on it. Of course, Aza had nothing to worry about. When delicious cake was on the line, his partner was not afraid to bulldoze an entire crowd of people to get to it.

“I tried to recreate it,” Aza continued, fully relaxing as he delved into one of his favourite topics, “But I didn’t get it quite _right_. Marshmallow’s kinda new to me anyways, and-”

Aymeric soaked up Aza’s happy chatter as they entered the main hall, where the gathered celebrants were already filling the pews. Aymeric gently guided them to fill one of the seats in the back, where Aza could misbehave out of sight from any of the clergymen prowling the mass that morning. It wasn’t the _done_ thing to do – it was expected to fill up from the front, no matter one’s standing, but Aymeric would take the minor faux pas if it meant ensuring Aza didn’t accidentally offend anyone. Getting kicked out of the cathedral on Starlight was a scandal Aymeric _didn’t_ feel up to enduring that week.

“Did they dare someone to make these benches as uncomfortable as possible?” Aza muttered when they took their seat right in the far-left corner of the hall, partially hidden behind a thick, stone grey pillar. Aymeric could see enough of the altar to follow mass, though, “I feel like I’m sitting on stone.”

“It’s to stop people from falling asleep.”

“They should’ve hammered nails into the backrest then.”

“Please don’t give them any ideas,” Aymeric sighed, leaning forwards to neatly slide out the hymn book from the back of the bench in front. It was well worn, old, and the spine creaked ominously as he cracked it open and handed it over to Aza.

“Here. This might keep you sane until the singing starts.”

“Oh!” Aza made a pleased noise once he recognised the book, eagerly taking it from Aymeric’s hands and flicking through, “Are there any naughty hymns?”

“Oddly enough,” Aymeric said wryly, “No, there aren’t. The clergy tends to look down upon bawdy songs about the Fury and whatnot.”

“Shame,” Aza sighed, “We’ve got rude songs about Nhaama and Azim, you know.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I probably shouldn’t sing them here though,” Aza admitted. He then proceeded to make himself as comfortable as he could on the hard, stiff pew, wedging himself into the bench’s small corner and looking even more like a chubby, fluffed up cat with his bulky coat bunched about him.

“You look adorable,” Aymeric told him.

Aza gave him a look over the top of his book, “I am not.”

“Mm, you are.”

“I’m not gonna have this argument with you again,” his partner grumbled, pointedly burying his nose into his book – but not before Aymeric caught the faint tinge of red in his cheeks.

Smiling to himself in self-satisfaction, Aymeric made himself as comfortable as he could in his seat and settled in for mass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :v


End file.
